


Unaccustomed

by triste



Category: D.Gray-man, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2011-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shion likes watching Kanda meditate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unaccustomed

Title: Unaccustomed  
Author: Triste  
Fandoms: D.Gray-man/No. 6  
Pairing: Kanda/Shion  
Rating: PG  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

~~

Shion likes watching Kanda meditate. It amazes him how anyone can stay so perfectly still. Even his breathing is carefully controlled. He sits with his legs crossed and his back straight, eyes closed, hands joined in his lap. His face is calm and free from expression. It feels strange to see him without his usual scowl. Shion isn’t used to him looking serene, but that, he supposes, is the purpose of the exercise.

The thing he finds most fascinating of all, however, is Kanda’s hair. Instead of tying it back the way he usually does, he’s left it down for once. It’s so long and straight and silky. It shines, Shion thinks, like water reflecting the night sky.

Then he blushes for coming up with something so embarrassing. He’s no poet. It’s about time he stopped trying to act like one.

Still, the urge to run his fingers through Kanda’s hair is tempting. He’s so close. He doesn’t mind Shion sitting with him like this as long as he stays quiet and doesn’t move, but Shion has learnt enough to know that Kanda hates being touched (and so has Nezumi, which is probably why he takes such pleasure in doing the one thing he dislikes most to piss him off).

But Kanda, as far as Shion can tell, is concentrating hard on keeping his mind free from distraction, and if he’s careful, he might just get away with it.

The rustle of Shion’s clothes, when he moves, sounds painfully loud in the silence. He hopes Kanda hasn’t noticed it. But, when Shion checks for a reaction, there’s nothing. Encouraged, he reaches out, his heartbeat thudding in his ears. The fear of being caught, as well as the knowledge of what might happen afterwards, is almost enough for him to change his mind (he’s sure whatever punishment Kanda doles out will be extraordinarily thorough, not to mention painful), but his hand seems to be moving on its own.

It inches nearer, slowly, tremblingly, so as not to attract Kanda’s attention, and then Shion gasps out in shock when Kanda’s fingers clamp around his wrist in a vice grip. It’s a wordless warning, when Kanda squeezes tighter, that he could break Shion’s bones if he wanted to.

He’s fast. Shion never even saw him move.

A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. He swallows hard, more in awe of Kanda’s lightning reflexes than in fear of getting hurt.

“What the hell do you want?” Kanda growls, his mouth twisted in a snarl. He stares at Shion suspiciously as though searching him for any intent to kill.

“I’m sorry,” Shion stammers. It feels like he’s being pinned under Kanda’s piercing gaze. “I didn’t mean to. I just...” He can’t say it. It sounds too stupid. But Kanda is glaring at him in a way that makes him want to confess everything. “I wanted to touch it. Your hair, I mean. It’s so very beautiful.”

Apparently compliments have no effect on Kanda. They only leave him irritated. Then again, it’s Shion’s fault for disturbing his meditation in the first place. Kanda wouldn’t be angry if he’d simply respected his desire for space by leaving him well alone.

“Whatever. I’m done here, anyway.” Kanda releases his hold on Shion, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tie. It’s bright red, a stark contrast to Kanda’s raven coloured hair. He lifts his hands behind his head with the intention of gathering it up into his usual ponytail, but stops when Shion tugs his sleeve.

“Would you mind if I did that?” he asks.

“It’s a task I can’t entrust to anyone else. I can’t stand dealing with other people’s incompetence.”

“I’ll do it properly,” Shion says eagerly. “I may not look it, but I’m good with my hands.”

And he blushes for the second time when he realises how perverted he sounds.

Kanda pauses. He seems to be seriously considering it, so Shion decides it’s safe to push his luck a little.

“I’m telling the truth. I can do stitches and everything.”

Another moment passes by before Kanda hands the tie over to Shion, albeit in a rather grudging manner. “Fine,” he relents. “But I’ll break all your fingers if you mess it up.”

And that would be a bad thing indeed because Shion kind of needs them in order to do, well, anything that requires functioning body parts.

“Right. I understand.”

It’s not nerves that drive him to do the task well, although they’re definitely a part of it. He also feels incredibly flattered that Kanda trusts him enough to do something this important.

Kanda’s hair, when Shion finally touches it, is as smooth as he’s imagined. He doesn’t have a brush so he has to make do with his fingers, sliding them gently through the inky strands. He’s fairly sure he could do this forever, or at least for another few minutes, but Kanda is waiting impatiently for him to finish so he can get away and get on with whatever else he’s planning on crossing off his list next, so he has to finish quick.

Once he’s done with combing Kanda’s hair with his fingers, Shion works on pulling all of it into place. Kanda prefers his ponytails high, and it’s tough working out the little bumps and tangles, but Shion manages it somehow. Finally, before he can tie it up, he leans just enough to breathe in its scent. It smells like soap, clean and cared for.

“Are you done yet?”

Shion jumps, guilty. “Almost.”

And then it’s over.

Kanda runs a hand over his head, checking the end result. He must be somewhat satisfied with it because he doesn’t complain. He also doesn’t thank Shion, but that’s okay. Shion has his reasons, and they’re not entirely selfless. He doesn’t need praise or gratitude, not that Kanda has ever been the type of person to give either.

“Is it all right?”

The only response he gets from Kanda is a short and simple “hmph.”

“I’m glad.” Shion smiles. “Should I make some tea?”

“Do whatever you want,” says Kanda.

 

End.


End file.
